


Moominpappa's Midlife Crisis

by draculard



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Child Abandonment, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Rated T for language, general silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 17:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: Once again, it's time for Moominpappa to go on an adventure. This time, he's purchased a shiny new Harley Davidson to take for a ride.





	Moominpappa's Midlife Crisis

“Oh, what a day for an adventure!” said Moomintroll. He spun in a circle and clapped his tail against the floor in joy.

“Shut up, Moomintroll,” said Moominpappa. “You’re not coming.”

He stuffed a few essentials (his spare exercise book, for writing the memoirs as he traveled; clean pajamas; pancakes) into a small bag, which he then placed inside his top hat for safe-keeping.

“Why not?” said Moomintroll. “I love adventures.”

“Because _you_ can’t fit on the back of my new Harley Davidson,” said Moominpappa.

“But Mamma’s going!” said Moomintroll.

“Moominmamma is a hot babe,” said Moominpappa. “You are not a hot babe. That’s final, son.”

Pouting, Moomintroll accepted his fate. Moominpappa did a last check of his belongings, confirming that he did indeed bring along all essentials, and then checked his pocketwatch and hurried out the door, where Moominmamma was waiting on the back of his shiny-new motorcycle.

“Let’s roll, toots,” said Moominpappa. He climbed up behind her, putting his hands around her waist.

“Got everything, dear?” asked Moominmamma, revving the engine.

“Oh, yes,” said Moominpappa. He accepted the helmet Moominmamma handed him and squeezed it over his top hat. The strap barely hit around his chin, but he made it work. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

They roared off through Moominvalley, leaving a trail of dust in their wake. Moomintroll watched them go from his bedroom window with sad eyes.

 _Abandoned once again,_ he thought. _I may as well go be a tramp and live in the woods, like Snufkin._

* * *

Moominpappa had been craving this adventure for what felt like forever — ever since he first settled down with Moominmamma, his life had been missing a little extra spice. In his youth, that sense of adventure had been provided by his friends, good old Hodgkins and Muddler and Joxter. Moominpappa was sure that they’d never settled down, that they’d kept on living their youthful lives, even as Sniff and Snufkin were born.

He held on tightly to Moominmamma as she drove the motorcycle and sighed into her shoulder.

“What is it, dear?” Moominmamma asked, shouting to be heard over the roar of the bike.

“I’m feeling melancholy!” Moominpappa shouted back. Moominmamma didn’t answer immediately, but she slowed the bike down, and after a moment, she pulled over to the side of the dirt path so she and Moominpappa could have a proper conversation.

“That’s what this is all about, dear,” said Moominmamma gently. “You’ve been feeling melancholy for ever so long. A nice adventure is just what you need.”

“It’s not just that,” said Moominpappa. He felt a dark storm brewing up inside him, reminding him painfully of his youthful months at sea. “I feel like I’ve lost part of myself, Moominmamma. Why, I know I have! Just think, how long have we been calling ourselves Moominpappa and Moominmamma? It’s like we’ve forgotten a life before parenthood consumed us — like we’ve forgotten our own names!”

“But, dear,” said Moominmamma, nose wrinkling, “my name has always been Moominmamma.”

“Well, that’s all very good and well for _you_ ,” said Moominpappa, who didn’t wish to admit that his name had always been Moominpappa, too. “Some of us used to be somebody.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” said Moominmamma. “I should have thought to ask. What’s your real name?”

A beat passed in silence. Moominpappa struggled to think of something that sounded natural.

“Moomin…” he started. “Er, Moomingnarly, dear.”

“Moominally,” Moominmamma repeated. “How lovely.”

“ _Gnarly_ , dear,” Moominpappa said. She patted him on the arm.

“Yes, it certainly is. It’s most radical, as well.”

“Well!” A bit flustered by this praise, Moominpappa gestured back to the Harley. “We really must get going,” he said. “Just be sure to call me by real name from now on, dear. At least until we return to that dreadful home.”

Moominmamma nodded and clambered back onto the motorcycle seat, starting up the bike as Moomingnarly climbed on behind her.

 _Really, now,_ Moominmamma thought as she pulled away from the curb. _The things I do for love._

* * *

“Abandoned again, Moomintroll?” asked Snufkin.

“Yes,” said Moomintroll miserably.

“They must really hate your guts,” observed Snufkin. He cast his fly into the river and reeled it in a little, hoping to tempt a fish into biting.

“I’m afraid so,” said Moomintroll. “Snufkin, whatever should I do? How can I be more likable?”

“I like you just the way you are,” said Snufkin mildly. He didn’t see the way Moomin’s eyes welled up with happy tears. “But if it’s your parents you’re hoping to please … well, you might try being a little more gnarly.”

“Gnarly?” Moomintroll repeated. Despair settled over him like a heavy cloud. “Oh, I could never be gnarly! I just don’t have it in me!”

“Then don’t try,” said Snufkin. “I don’t.”

“That’s all very well and good for you,” said Moomintroll. “Your parents didn’t abandon you! Again!”

After a long moment, Snufkin turned his head away from the river to give Moomintroll an inscrutable look. Moomintroll squirmed under Snufkin’s steady gaze, unsure what that expression could mean.

“My parents didn’t abandon me again,” said Snufkin emotionlessly, “because they never came back in the first place.”

The words sank into Moomintroll slowly. He stared down at his feet, unable to take Snufkin’s stare, and as soon as he looked away, Snufkin looked away, too. The moment hung between them for a long time, rendering them both silent.

Finally, Snufkin cleared his throat.

“Sleep in my tent tonight,” he said lightly. “It’ll be our own little adventure. What do you say?”

“Oh, Snufkin,” said Moomin, voice thick with emotion. He leaned over and pulled Snufkin into a tight hug, briefly disrupting the steadiness of his fishing pole. “I’d like that.”


End file.
